


Evidence to the Contrary

by notjustmom



Series: Towel Day 2016 [3]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: John's Inner Monologue, M/M, first morning after, first time implied
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-21
Updated: 2016-05-21
Packaged: 2018-06-09 18:46:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6918838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notjustmom/pseuds/notjustmom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Grown men, he told himself, in flat contradiction of centuries of accumulated evidence about the way grown men behave, do not behave like this.”<br/>― Douglas Adams, So Long, and Thanks for All the Fish</p>
            </blockquote>





	Evidence to the Contrary

John considered a few basic facts as he stretched and opened his eyes that morning.

One: He was definitely not wearing anything. A bit startling, but these things did happen on occasion, no cause for concern on its own.

Two: He was apparently not in his own bed. Hmmmm. O-kaaaaay. Interesting. We'll put that away for a bit.

Three: There was someone in the bed with him that was not his own, looking down at him, a particular someone who previously had claimed to be 'married to his work' who also appeared not to be wearing anything, but a beautiful smile and a look of...oh. Right. 

These three facts made him quickly reassess certain strongly held precepts. (Good word, that. He was relieved, as that meant his vocabulary was still relatively intact, and accessible...moving on....)

One: He was not gay. (No, too big to deconstruct at this time of the morning. Need something smaller. Good. Right.)

Two: As a fully grown British male of Scottish descent, he had previously believed himself to be incapable of joy. And yet, as he glanced up at the smiling eyes of his obviously recently shagged, 'married to his work' flatmate, he felt something akin to that long ago memory of Christmas morning, before all the beautiful wrapping paper was shredded and his siblings were all screaming....joy. Definitely heart-pounding joy.

Three: He did not do anything in the morning until he hit the loo, and had his first cuppa. However, the above mentioned 'heart-pounding joy' seemed overpowering enough to negate his natural inclination toward life long habits. As a result, he smiled back at the recently shagged detective, reached up to touch a curl that had fallen into his eyes, took a deep breath, and kissed him soundly.

Four: He considered that aforementioned first precept, examined it closely, sat with it for a bit, tossed it as if it were a football, and came to the conclusion that the 'heart-pounding joy' was much more dear to him than some archaic notion of society's need for simplistic classification.

All this ruminating and reassessing took approximately 3.2 seconds. In his life before Sherlock, John would have cleared his throat, politely excused himself and headed for the loo and tea, then spend hours making mental pro/con lists, perhaps consider the viability of such a relationship, then head to the shops for milk, bread and biscuits. As that ship had long since sailed, he observed the twinkle in Sherlock's eyes, the mussed hair and the gently parted lips that were still smiling at him, and grinned back.

"All sorted, then, love?" Sherlock whispered.

"Quite."

"Shall I continue?"

"Carry on."


End file.
